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After about an hour, this blousy, bottle blonde interrupted us.She put her hand on Arian’s shoulder possessively and rubbed her huge fake boobs on him. “Darling, it has been an age, we must get together soon,” she simpered.She had to be in her forties but was trying to look half her age. I think she put the make-up on with a trowel. Okay, so I felt catty. I hate fake people and generally avoid them like the plague.I went to remove my hand from Arian’s, but he gripped my hand tighter and looked pleadingly at me. I looked at the overconfident bitch and then at him. I grinned and leant back to relax into the chair.Some years after I had met Arian, I’d had a male flatmate for a while, and we had this deal. We would ‘rescue each other’ if we wished to get rid of the unwanted company when we went nightclubbing by pretending to be lovers. It always worked.“Sweetie, you must introduce your friend,” I said. The blonde finally looked at me but dismissed me as not important.Arian got in on the. I walked off after my kaftan, donning my straw bonnet, and feeling naked as the breeze flowed over my nude curves, the small triangular patch covering my cunt, wetted with each step, I never felt so wanton as I did at that moment, my eyes hidden behind the huge shades I wore, my head down into the breeze coming from behind, my eyes scanning the sand-line, until it delved in slightly, similar to where we had spread our towels, and there again I saw his towel, a bright yellow, and I looked back to where my husband lay, but I could not see him, but I could see the man to my left, now standing upright, totally naked and with an erection, which he showed proudly.I stopped atop my kaftan and removed my glasses, 'Good Morning', I said politely, we were separated by a few strides, 'Holla', he replied, or something like that, his eyes traversing my nudity, as my own eyes shamefully focused on his erect penis.I bent and picked up my kaftan, my nipples aching, the oil I had thankfully put on.
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